Page 31 of All for You

“Smooth talker,” she says, unable to hide her grin. The sunlight streams through the window, catching golden flecks in her eyes, making them sparkle.

The urge to show her how much she affects me, is overwhelming. But I hold back. She must be sore. And tired. So, I tamp down my own desires and stretch lazily. We can’t spend the day in bed. “How about some breakfast? I make a mean piece of toast.”

Rachel snorts, her finger tracing patterns on my chest. “Wow, a culinary genius in my bed. How’d I get so lucky?”

“Pure charm and rugged good looks, sweetheart.” I wink, earning me a playful swat.

“All right, Casanova. Let’s see these toasting skills in action.”

Reluctantly, I disentangle myself from her embrace and swing my legs over the side of the bed. As I pad across the tiny studio, the scuffed floorboards creak beneath my feet. Sunshine illuminates dust motes dancing in the air as I disturb them.

“There’s bread in the cabinet above the sink. Toaster’s on the counter.”

I slip into my underwear and jeans, leaving them unbuttoned, and then rummage through the sparse cabinets, locating a half loaf of slightly stale bread. “Fancy place you’ve got here.”

“I gave the butler day off,” Rachel quips, joining me in the kitchenette. She reaches for two mugs, dumping instant coffee into each. “Sorry, no cream. A proper fridge is more of an aspirational appliance at this point.”

Her self-deprecating humor tugs at my heart, and I want to sweep her away and shower her with all the comforts she deserves. But I know Rachel is no damsel in distress. Her strength and resilience in hardship only makes me admire her more.

“Black coffee and plain toast? You really know how to spoil a guy.”

Looking like a sexy imp in my button-down shirt that’s not so buttoned now, Rachel hip-checks me as she fills the mugs with hot water from the tap. “Keep it up, and you’ll be wearing that toast instead of eating it.”

I hold up my hands in mock surrender. “Yes, ma’am.”

We settle at the small table, our knees bumping in the cramped space. Rachel takes a sip of her coffee, grimacing slightly. “Mmm, nothing like the taste of regret in the morning.”

My head snaps up. She regrets last night?

“No! That’s not what I mean.” Her eyes are big and round. She obviously read my mind or my face. “I regret that I can’t offer you much better coffee, breakfast, or even a nicer bed to sleep in.”

“Rachel, none of those matters.”

“They do to me. This is so far from what you’re used to.”

Not wanting to embarrass her further, I bite into my toast, exaggerating a moan of pleasure. “This toast is perfection.”

Rachel shakes her head but smiles at my attempt to lighten the mood again. “You’re ridiculous.” Her nose crinkles when she smiles, which makes my heart stutter in my chest.

“You love it,” I counter, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face.

Her expression softens, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. “Maybe I do.”

The admission hangs in the air between us. I clear my throat, suddenly feeling exposed. “So, any big plans for today?”

She shrugs, tearing her toast into smaller pieces. “Nope.”

Rachel’s foot brushes against mine under the table, and the innocent touch sets my skin ablaze. I want to grab her foot and trail my fingers up her leg to explore every inch of her. The desire to pull her onto my lap and kiss her senseless is almost painful in its intensity.

“What about you? Off to wrangle cattle and lasso tumbleweeds?”

I roll my eyes. “You know, there’s more to ranching than that.”

Rachel leans forward, her expression mock serious. “Oh? Do tell, Mr. Kincaid. Educate this simple city girl on the intricacies of ranch life.”

The way she says my name, all teasing and sultry, is sexy as fuck.

“Well,” I drawl, matching her playful tone, “there’s also a lot of standing around looking rugged and mysterious.”

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